


Interlude #2

by squeeliferuiner



Series: Compromise [7]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack Pairing, Established Relationship, LSV, Lokiwell, M/M, PWP, Ravelry, accidental RP, out of context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeeliferuiner/pseuds/squeeliferuiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Jasper get a much-needed night to themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude #2

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the Compromise 'verse but it's way, way ahead of everything else I've posted so far. Some context: their kid was born, her name is Kára, and Frigga and her healer Eir came down from Asgard to help out with that. Immediately preceeding this ficlet, Eir offered to take infant Kára off their hands for an evening so they could get some sleep. And "sleep." 
> 
> Yes, this is the crackiest thing ever. Many thanks to estoile for encouraging me to post it and also the beta. 
> 
> Enjoy!

After Sitwell shows Eir to the door, Loki turns away from him with a slight sway (he knows what Sitwell likes, hips and backsides and long, long legs, and he works it when he wants something) and a coy glance over his shoulder. And Sitwell could pretend not to be interested (and with the lack of sleep involved in caring for their newborn, it wouldn’t be that much of a pretense), but this night to themselves is a gift, and he wants it too much to bother with teasing.

He catches up to Loki in the doorway of their bedroom, pulling him into a deep kiss, taking the time to explore his mouth. Loki’s hands reach for his shirt. He doesn’t bother trying to work the buttons, just rips at it (and Sitwell thinks they’ll have to make sure they clean up the buttons that go flying before Kára starts crawling, but there’s plenty of time for that, months yet, it’s just that everything changes with a kid and he _thinks_ about these things now). He’s a little more patient with Loki’s shirt, hands tangling and fumbling with Loki’s before Loki moves his to Sitwell’s hips. He likes to unwrap Loki like a present, one button at a time revealing the planes of his chest, the long, clean lines of him, pale skin quivering under Sitwell’s fingers tracing across his ribs.

Loki makes an impatient sound in the back of his throat and pushes Sitwell toward the bed. He scrambles back against the pillows, raising himself up onto his elbows to watch as Loki skins out of his tight jeans, not making a show of it, exactly, but still taking his time: he knows Sitwell likes it. The bed dips beneath his weight as he crawls up Sitwell’s body, long fingers deftly unfastening Sitwell’s jeans and pushing them down. His tongue traces over the curve of Sitwell’s hipbone, across his belly, up his chest. His mouth closes on Sitwell’s nipple, curving into a grin at the sound Sitwell makes, rolling the nub of flesh between his teeth gently as Sitwell arches up against him with a groan. He works his way up to Sitwell’s mouth (and if his lips linger on his collarbone, the hard line of his jaw on the way there, well, Sitwell isn’t complaining).

His hand skims over Sitwell’s ribs, down his hip, ghosts over the tender skin of his inner thigh, coming to rest just a hair’s breadth from his cock. He withdraws just enough to smirk down at Sitwell, the tips of his fingers curving along Sitwell’s belly, back and forth.

“Gods, Loki, that’s not fair,” Sitwell groans, and squirms under Loki, trying to get his hand on his cock, and Loki just _laughs_ at him (and Sitwell loves his laugh when he’s like this, low and rumbling and pleased, a joyful, mischievous thing), moving his hand farther away and pressing hard along the sensitive ridge of Sitwell’s hipbone, Sitwell’s hips jerking up at the touch. His own hand strokes along Loki’s back, over the lines of his spine, fingers noting each notch of vertebra, coming back up over the sharp shoulder blades and the soft skin between them that makes Loki shiver under his calloused fingertips, and when Loki looks back at him, his eyes are dark with _need_ and his breath catches in his throat at the look in those eyes.

“I do not have the patience to draw this out much,” Loki tells him, voice rough. “I _need_ this.”

And Sitwell grins up at him. “I’m not stopping you, am I?” And Loki’s hand finally, _finally_ reaches for his cock, heavy and thick and hot, already dripping, and strokes him, and “oh _fuck,_ like that, Loki, yes” and still stroking him, Loki moves down his body and settles between his thighs. Loki gestures, and then a magically slick finger nudges at his entrance, and he presses against it, just as Loki’s tongue flicks over the head of his cock, lips soft against the tender skin, his mouth hot as he licks at the dribble of precome, takes Sitwell’s cock into his mouth and sucks hard, and then that slick finger is pressing inside him, followed by a second, loosening him up for Loki’s cock and his hips jerk, wanting Loki’s mouth, wanting those strong fingers and then both disappear and he swears in filthy syllables before Loki’s hand strokes over him soothingly and positions himself to push into Sitwell.

“So tight, Jasper. Oh, but you take it so nicely, don’t you?” Inch by slow inch, giving him time to adjust, but sliding in relentlessly, and when he looks back at Sitwell, Loki’s pupils are blown with lust and he’s hitching one of Sitwell’s legs up around his hip before he leans down to take his mouth again, and he waits just a fraction of a moment for Sitwell to nod before he starts to move in slow thrusts.

“Harder, Loki, please?” Sitwell’s hips are rolling to meet his, his breath coming in short pants.

“No, I think I like you like this. Desperate for my cock. I know you want it. Tell me how much you want it.”

And Sitwell groans, arching up against Loki.

“ _Please,_ Loki. I need you. I need your cock. I want you to fuck me hard. _Please._ ” He pulls Loki down to him, presses his lips against his throat, bites down hard on the curve of that long neck into shoulder, feels Loki’s hips jerk hard against him in response.

“Oh, well, if _that’s_ how you want this to be…” Loki’s voice trails off as he gives in, pounds into Sitwell, fucking him hard into the bed, grinning at the sounds Sitwell makes, pain and pleasure twined up together and pooling into heat at the base of his spine, Sitwell’s thighs clenching hard on his hips, nails dragging up his back and the warmth of Sitwell’s breath against his neck. He reaches a hand between them, pads of his fingers dragging up Sitwell’s cock, smearing precome wetness along it, is rewarded by a high whining sound and Sitwell arching up to meet him, thrusting into his hand, and it doesn’t take long then before Sitwell comes with a groan. And Loki grins, pleased to have brought him to this, to have his lover helpless and undone beneath him, and he lowers his head to take Sitwell’s mouth again, gentle but insistent, as he thrusts once, again, and releases into Sitwell.

They lay there tangled in each other’s limbs for some time before Loki finally pulls away. His fingers twist in a gesture that leaves them both clean. Then he curls up onto Sitwell, head on his chest, the thump of Sitwell’s heartbeat soothing against his ear. Sitwell’s hand strokes up his back, once, then comes to rest on his shoulder, holding him close.

“Bless Eir for this,” Loki murmurs against his skin. “I have a hard time letting Kára into someone else’s care, but this was much needed. And actual sleep to go with it, even more so.”

“Maybe next time we can take our time about it, even.” Sitwell smiles against Loki’s soft hair.

“You were as impatient as I.”

“I know.”

Loki doesn’t answer, just breathes, listening to Sitwell’s heart, wrapping himself up in the warmth and safety of Sitwell’s arms. 


End file.
